Intervention in the Dark
by xxDibDabxx
Summary: Ever wonder what impact Peeta's confession about his father's wish to marry Katniss' mother would have back in District Twelve? Or just what Mrs. Everdeen would do if Gale got hurt and she had to fend for herself? Just a one-shot, not really a pairing story.


**A/N: I haven't written anything on FF in a long time and I haven't written THG before so any comments are welcome. Also, Katniss' mum and Peeta's dad weren't named so I did the honour :) Thanks for reading!**

It was raining as she rushed through the muddy streets of District Twelve. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders but she was soaked through, her pale skin damp. Despite the foul weather, she didn't feel the cold and her thoughts were instead back at home, with her precious little twelve year old daughter. She sent up silent prayers to her husband to watch over their Primrose and to be blind of what she was about to do.

She felt like sobbing as she considered what it would be like to taken by another man, a man whom she didn't want his hands on her let alone all over her. She didn't cry though. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

The thought of those poor Hawthorne boys kept her steady through the cold. She had seen them only a day ago when she had brought them an herbal salve and some bandages for Gale; he had been attacked by a pack of wild dogs while hunting in the woods and they had gauged a horrible wound into his calf. She had told him it would take a while to heal properly and he could only hope his muscle wouldn't be too badly affected, yet he went hunting again the next morning and reopened the wound. While she was at their home, she had seen Hazelle. The woman was about her age but look old and haggard from having lost so much weight. The older of her boys looked the same, their faces taunt. Gale, that foolish boy, had been supporting herself and Prim while he could only just provide for his own family. While she herself was giving Prim the larger portions of the food and feeling hungry more often, these boys clearly weren't getting enough. Angry and guilty, she had refused to take anymore from Gale, no matter how much he tried to reason with her.

Thus, she found herself on the way to Cray's doorway. She had heard rumours that the man gave gold for the use of a woman's body and she had seen the starving women waiting outside his home. She hoped he would take her offer despite her age.

A fork of lightning struck in the distance, lighting up the forest line against the horizon. It was no place for a boy with an injured leg. Perhaps, if she got enough, she would give Gale some of it. Her lips forming in a hard line, she made a promise to herself that even if she only got a little, she would give that poor boy something in compensation for all the hard labour he had put in for her family and for everything he had done for Katniss.

'Willow!'

She was startled at hearing her name, turning briefly to search for whoever was calling her. In the dark, she couldn't see anything further than a metre away. She thought of Prim alone in the house, thinking she was beside her. She had snuck out, not wanting to startle her. She had to hurry back to her. Just as she began walking again, the stranger persisted,

'Willow Everdeen!'

It was a man. As she turned to look again, lightning struck again and she saw a man rushing towards her, his figure dark. She was cautious but he reached her soon enough. Closer, she could see some of his features. Fine hair surrounding his face. Piercing eyes. A round face, concerned.

'What on earth are you doing out here?'

Closer, she recognised his voice.

'Brodric Mellark?'

'Come with me'.

He took hold of her arm and gently tugged her back the way he had come. She resisted.

'I can't tarry.'

'What are you doing in this weather in just a shawl? You'll catch your death!'

'Please, Brodric'.

He stopped, turning to look at her. In the dark, he had to peer closer, his face pushed close to hers. Unnerved, she tried to pull away, glancing at the alleyway she was headed down. He followed her gaze and in a third flash of light saw another woman dashing into the alley, her dress thin and her face painted to look desirable. His hold grew hard, unrelenting.

'Willow, where are you going?'

She wanted to defend herself, feeling his condescending judgement. He wouldn't understand. He had never starved, never watched his children starve.

'Where do you think I'm going? Let go of me!'

Instead he pulled her again, rougher and quicker this time. She slipped trying to keep up with her, knowing he would bruise her. She cursed at him, stubbing her toe as she was pulled up stairs and then the rain abruptly stopped as she stepped under shelter. They were besides a window with soft light pooling out. The man beside her pulled out matches, lighting a gas lamp. He put it besides them and she received a long stare in the light as he took hold of her arm again. His eyes were so blue, much like all his children. She expected anger or perhaps disgust but there was a profound sadness in his look. Compassion also.

'I saw your youngest only yesterday. She looks well'.

'She is, for now'. He released her arm and she made to step away.

'Willow, please'. His tone was sincere. She paused, turning to give him an angry look.

'You have no right to do this to me, Brodric.'

'Yes I do. I made a promise to your daughter, to Katniss. I promised I wouldn't let your little girl starve. If something is wrong, then tell me. Don't make me a liar'.

He gave her a look she recognised. She had seen it in his son's eyes. When Katniss was close, Peeta gave her this sad, round-eyes look of longing and what could only be described as love. She didn't know if she believed her daughter had fallen in love with the Mellark boy in the Games, but she knew he loved her. The same way she knew his father felt something similar for her.

'Have you been watching the Games, Brodric?'

He blinked surprised but nodded. She continued, crossing her arms as she faced him.

'I heard what Peeta told my daughter about you. How you wished to marry me'.

He swallowed but remained silent. After a moment, she continued.

'My parents would have wanted me to marry you also, if you must know. But I loved my husband very much. I still do. I love my daughters even more. So, if you want to keep my Prim well, then I would offer you my greatest gratitude. But it best be through nothing but your good will and nature'.

Broderic gave a small smile.

'I also have a wife, Willow, and children. They're good boys. Strong'.

'No. I will not take from your children. I have other ways of making money'.

'By letting that old bastard do what he wishes with you? What kind of life is that?'

His tone was angry and far too loud.

'Hold your tongue! What business of yours is it what I do? Huh?'

He pulled back a little, his eyes hurt.

'None, I suppose. I just...'

She just looked at him, waiting for him to finish. Rubbing his eyes, he continued after a moment.

'I may never have known that man of yours, but I know he would never have wanted you to do this to yourself. Not when there were others willing to help'.

Willow didn't know what to say to that. She knew he was correct, but her husband wasn't here was he? If he was, then they wouldn't be starving. But, then again, would Katniss have made it as far as she had in the Games? Would she be dead? Willow looked into the darkness, wondering if he would understand. If her beloved could forgive her. Broderic spoke again, his voice quiet, his eyes downcast.

'I can't stand here and watch you go into his home'.

Willow sighed, finally replying.

'I will take only what you can spare'.

She caught the look of relief on Broderic's face as he dashed through his back door. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she waited, thinking about Prim again. When he came out, he had a basket laden with goods. From what she could see there were two loaves of bread, a bag of fresh green apples and a large pie which from the smell was meaty. She took it in her hands, bewildered.

'I...I can't take all this. The money it will cost you'.

She tried to hand it back.

'No, please. You must. I've noticed that the Hawthorne boy had been trading less and less game. I guessed that he is providing for you and your young one?'

Willow nodded glumly.

'He's hurt,' she replied, 'He shouldn't be hunting. But it wouldn't matter if he was well, he can't provide for my family and his own'.

'I figured. Please share with him as well. I know it's what your Katniss would want'.

She looked down at the food that would keep her daughter alive and looked back at him with tears in her eyes.

'Thank you'.

He shook his head sadly.

'I should have done this years ago, when your daughters were thin with hunger after your husband died. I was a fool and I can't apologise enough. Even now, you daughter is keeping my son alive. I can't begrudge you anything'.

'No,' she brought her hand up to his cheek and he was startled at the touch but didn't brush her away, 'We weren't your burden and you are doing too much now'.

They were silent for a moment. Willow took in the man before her and wondered what her life would have been like had she married him. But then she thought of her beautiful daughters and was eager to return to Prim.

'I must go'.

'Home?' His voice was stern, more a command than question.

'Yes, home'.

'And you'll return next week?'

Willow paused. The way the Games were going, she may not need to return next week. Or perhaps she may have to return every week. She swallowed, not wanting to think about that.

'If I have to'.

He nodded sharply. As she walked back out into the storm, she saw his figure from his torchlight before he extinguished it and fell into darkness. She didn't doubt he would be out each night looking for her going down that alley. As she walked, she thought that she would give the Hawthornes the pie.


End file.
